


Hyper Concentrated

by GothMoth



Series: Ectobers Ectoplasmic Splatters [9]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Blood, Broken Bones, Danny's a mess, Gen, Mild Gore, Minor Injuries, mocking vlad, the quirks of being a halfa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 00:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21065894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth
Summary: Sometimes I’m more ghostly than others and that’s just fine. Just another messed up aspect of a messed up half-life.





	Hyper Concentrated

**Author's Note:**

> Ectober 2019 Day 17: Witching Hour

  * April 12, 3:42 am
  * April 24, 3:28 am
  * July 6, 3:11 am
  * August 1, 3:56 am
  * August 13, 3:47 am

  
Danny sighs as he shakes his head adding another date to his little notebook.

  * August 29, 3:03 am

  
Even his dumbass, that was perpetually focused on other things, could see the pattern here. It was always between 3 am and 4 am. He didn’t yet know if it happened exactly at 3 am and would stop instantly at 4 am. And really, if it wasn’t for all the late-night or early morning -depending on how you looked at it- ghost sense wake up calls, he never would have noticed.

  
Getting up and walking over to his bedroom door nob, wiggling it to hear and feel the reassuring lock. If his parents ever walked in on this, it would be flat out awful. Not ‘walking in on him mid-transformation’ awful, but definitely up there with ‘seeing him bleed ectoplasm’ awful.  
Shuffling back to his bed and getting started on his nights stitching and bandagings. Most would come off by morning, it was an easier fight after all. Which really just meant he hadn’t sustained any injuries that would typically kill a human. A few scratches, read: deep gouges. A cracked rib, read: probably broken earlier. A sprained shoulder, read: dislocated. And a deep jagged slash running down his arm, read: nearly bisected. Okay, maybe that last one could be deadly; but that lady in Saw survived it, didn’t she?

  
Watching the vibrant glow coming off his human skin as he sets to work on his arm, having already fixed up his shoulder.  
It was kind of annoying doing stitching while his body was ‘acting up’ like this. The ectoline blending in too easily with his glowing green fingernails. But it was something that had to be done. Otherwise, a gaping wound would stay a gaping wound by the time it was genuinely morning. And hiding that was more than a little difficult. At least on the simple scratches he could just use butterfly bandages.

  
Watching a trail of red blood with a white glow flow lazily over the side of his wrist. It really did something to your brain. Seeing something glow the completely wrong colour. At least with other colours you could trick your brain into just thinking it was a washed-out version of the colour. Pale green or pale blue or pale yellow. Can’t do that with red, you just get pale pink. And the brain just doesn’t like that, it’s honestly a good thing weird and not right and impossible, are Danny’s normals.

  
One more prick and pull and he’s patting at the finished stitching somewhat fondly. Sometimes he liked to fiddle with the edges of the stitches when he was feeling bored or stressed. Like squeezing a stress ball. It was calming and grounding.

  
Standing and stretching some before taking the first aid kit with him over to his bedroom mirror. He never used to have one, but after one too many times nearly being caught treating head or back wounds in the family bathroom, that had to change. Ruffling up his glowing green hair before setting to work butterflying closed four cuts. He hated head wounds, they always bled so damn much. This fact being emphasised by how he had to dap at his forehead every so often with his assigned blood rag. Honestly, the thing just looked tie-dyed now. A somewhat pretty collidascope of dark rust reds, darkening cherry reds, deep forest greens, fuzzy lime green, and the glow of neon green. Now adding a splash of vibrant white-glowing red, it really looked out of place. But it would fade all the same. Sometimes he found it funny how the reds always faded faster than the greens. Maybe if this rag didn’t see so much action it would all fade into an off-putting brown. Not off-putting because of the fact that it was brown, but rather that you could always just tell there was something sinister about that particular shade with that particular texture.

  
Running his tongue over his teeth and pausing, tilting his head. Opening his mouth to look at his green glowing teeth, “huh. Lost a tooth”. Shrugging, he’ll just have to keep his mouth closed for the morning and take his breakfast to go.

  
Walking back over to his bed and staring down at the notebook. Before looking down at his chest, patting at his PJ top. At least whatever this was didn’t force him to be in his jumpsuit. And he still looked normal in Phantom form. It was just Fenton that was all weird and glowy and green.  
Stretching again but with a yawn before flopping back in bed to sleep.

  
Stretching up in the morning, poking his tongue around in his mouth. Yep, tooth still missing. Well okay, it was half-formed. Pushing his tongue against the half-formed tooth, it was weird feeling the inside of a tooth. Plus the nerves were all exposed so anything cold, hot, sweet, spicy, salty, -really anything that wasn’t plain- would hurt like Hell.

  
Taking the steps two at a time and making sure not to jar his arm on the banister. Sliding into the kitchen and speaking with his head towards the ground to hide his mouth, “mornin’!”.

  
Jack and Maddie smile, exchange greetings and the normal stereotypical pleasantries. That were honestly just for the routine of it nowadays. It wasn’t that it’s was insincere, there was still love in it. It’s just that they were all nearly strangers to each other.

  
Waving bye to them with a piece of bread in his mouth. Everyone with smiles on their faces, genuine smiles yes but he knew they’d disappear near instantly. Wondering just what he was up too and wishing they could ask without feeling awkward and knowing they wouldn’t really get an answer. Just the same they didn’t really give him answers about their inventions anymore. Having caught on that once he, his friends, or Phantom caught on to what any of it did, it suddenly wouldn’t work on Phantom or at all.

  
Shrugging, well if he could keep secrets from them, it was only right they could too. Fair is fair after all. Besides the mystery and challenge added a bit of spice to everything. Kept him on his toes and always searching for the what, why, and how. Also known as paranoia, but that was just a close friend to him nowadays.

Waving to Sam and Tucker as he spots them by the fountain, “hey guys! So I’ve got some ghost weirdness to shoot off ya!”. Danny can see the slight strain as they try to hear him, even though he shouted. Human hearing really was awful.

  
Clapping Tucker in the shoulder as Danny plops down on the edge of the fountain. Sam smiling, “alright shoot. What’s gone straight strange in ghost ville this time?”.

  
Danny pulls out the little notebook, “it’s been a few months at least actually. Might even have been an always thing, just hadn’t noticed it yet”, flipping the book open and pointing at the times he’s got recorded, “always seems to be between three and four am. Basically-”.

  
Sam cuts him off with a laugh, “whatever it is, easy answer. Witching hour”.

  
Both Danny and Tucker raise an eyebrow, “huh?”.

  
Sam rolls her eyes, “oh come on. I would have figured by now all of us would have a healthy interest in the supernatural and spooky. The Witching hour is commonly known, you idiots”.

  
Danny points to her, “I am literally the supernatural and spooky”.

  
“Then be more interested in yourself”.

  
Danny looks around quickly before creating a clone and promptly kissing it, “that interested enough for you”.

  
Both of them start laughing, Tucker falling over. Making Danny grin wide, always appreciating how neither will call him on his injuries, teeth included.  
Sam shakes her head, “so anyway, dumbass. The Witching hour is three am to four am every night. Where the supernatural is more active. More powerful, more noticeable, more common. All that jazz”.

  
Tucker slaps Danny’s chest, “so what the Hell’s happening? To you probably”.

  
Danny snorts and rolls his eyes, “of course it’s to me. When is it ever not?”.

  
They laugh while Danny chuckles before speaking up again, “the problem with this though, is it happens to Screaming Fan not Frying Pan. And it seems pretty involuntary. Frying Pan is perfectly normal-looking but Screaming Fan is all glowy. Even blood glows white. Then there’s the green. Teeth, fingernails, eyes. All green and glowy. Like as bright as ectoline, glowy”.

  
Sam and Tucker exchange a look, speaking in unison, “sleep over time”. While Danny chuckles and kicks his heel hard enough on the stone to crack it.

That night, surprising no one, is more of an extended patrol than a traditional sleepover. Tucker whacking an ectobeaver over the head with a ectostun stick, “it really says something that this is our idea of a fun past time!”.

  
Danny chuckles blasting away an ectopuss, “honestly, it’s more telling that our folks aren’t even surprised by any of us just off and disappearing anymore!”, coming to float on his back just above the ground, “pretty sure they’ve all given up”.

  
Sam snorts, dragging another ectobeaver across the ground and whacking it, for good measure, before sucking it into her thermos, “don’t know what took mine so damn long. You fucks have only been the family black sheep’s for a few years. I’ve been doing it half my life”.

  
Danny snickers and pokes her, “I’ve been doing it for all of half my life”.

  
“Okay, I asked for that one”.

  
Danny just smirks as they do another lap around the town. Danny soaring over buildings and diving into alleys. Sam and Tucker following across rooftops, balconies and the ground. Frequently doing completely unnecessary parkour stunts.

  
Tucker whacks Danny on the back, “well looks like we chased everything away. Even Boxy isn’t making anymore repeat appearances”, looking at his smartwatch, “and it’s, like, just past two-thirty”.

  
Danny snorts, deadpanning, “too thirsty”.

  
Sam rolls her eyes at him, “you don’t have any more shame do you?”.

  
“It’s dead, rolling around in its coffin and slamming on the lid. Firmly being ignored by all the groundskeepers, ‘cause the fuckers got no place amongst the living or dead”.

  
Tucker shrugs, leaning over as he shoves the remnants of a cold burger into his mouth, “none ofgh urse dow”.

  
Sam rolls her eyes, prompting Danny to point at her. Sam raises an eyebrow, “what?”.

  
“Sam you’re literally running over rooftops and fighting mean nasty ghosties, in a bedazzled bra and Halloween novelty panties you’re passing off as shorts. Which honestly, yeah, they’re closer to shorts”.

  
Sam points down at her steel toe combat boots with a smirk.  
Tucker snorting, “you probably bathe in those things”.

  
“It’s happened”.

  
Danny laughs as he picks them up to fly to his room, “see? No shame”.

Landing and all three promptly collapsing on the floor. None of them opting to get up. Wounds left ignored to add to the stains on the floor. Danny eventually grunting, “think my room qualifies as a biohazard?”.

  
“Dude, some of your clothing piles probably have mould. And is there anything without blood or ‘plasm stains?”.

  
Danny shrugs, “prob not”.

  
Sam laughs a little hollowly, “you know that means we’re all nose blind to blood and viscera”.

  
Danny, in human form now, sits up on his hands, “I prob always smell like that”. He really was always injured. It was a rare thing that he wasn’t bleeding at least a little bit. And the only aspect of that that bothered him was that sometimes he didn’t notice it bleeding through clothing. People might notice that sort of thing and replacing clothing was expensive.

  
Danny then jerks slightly, his friends following suit near immediately. Danny feeling his ectoplasm pulse and slosh around of its own accord. Feeling closer to the surface and vibrating slightly more than it had been before. Tilting his head down and seeing the glowing human hands and green fingernails, “huh, never actually been awake during”.

  
Sam checks her phone, “yup, three am on the dot”, before flipping it around to show them.

  
Tucker snorts, “that was easy to figure out then”.

  
Danny sticks his arms out to the side, “but why? I mean obviously it’s the whole supernatural, aka ghost, being stronger or whatever”.

  
“Duh”.

  
“Dude, that's basically the why entirely”.

  
Danny facepalms, muttering into his hand, “if this ‘witching hour’ brings ghosts closer to the surface because”, lifting his head up and snapping his fingers, “shit yeah, I could feel this. My ectoplasm bubbles up to the surface, more so anyway”, Rolling his hand, “but really, shouldn’t this just make me Noten Phantom looking? Not green? If this time makes ghosts more ghostly or the Ghost Realm closer to the Mortal one?”.

  
Tucker blinks at him disbelievingly before laughing, “you answered your own question”, gesturing to Danny’s green glowing form, “your green cause your ectoplasm is closer to the surface”.

  
Sam tilts her head, “the Witching Hour is the time where, if we apply this to knowing ghosts are indeed real, ectoplasm would be more active”, pointing at Danny, “hence your ectoplasm being more active”. Smirking at him, “you could say, that just as the Ghost Realm is closer to the surface, to the land of the living. So too is your ghost closer to the surface of you, the body of the living Danny”.

  
Danny fiddles with his stitching some and starts laughing, “so I’m spooky Danny. Spooky Danny Fenton”, snorting, “Phantom’s a Spook and Fenton’s a Mortal. But Witching Hour Fenton is Spooky Fenton”, sticking his glowing arms out to the side, “not quite a Spook and not quite a Mortal! The true in between!”.

  
Tucker throws an arm around Danny, “and since only Fenton’s affected that means it’s a halfa thing. In between indeed”.

  
Sam throws her arm around Danny’s other side before the all dramatically fall back down onto the ground, “at least you rock it, very cybergoth. Vlad probably looks like an absolute fool”.

  
Danny goes wide-eyed and slowly grins maliciously, “well it is only 3:24, we can pay our favourite unlovable fruitloop a visit now can’t we?”.

  
Tucker jerks to sit up but Danny’s got a hold on him and isn’t moving, dragging Tucker back down onto the carpet with a huff.

  
Sam raises an eyebrow, staring at the ceiling, “portal?”.

  
Tucker nods at the ceiling, “portal”.

  
While Danny smirks, “portal”, before opening up a portal on the floor, the three fällig backwards through it. Danny whispering, “now fall”.  
The three come flying out of the portal formed on Vlad’s bedroom wall, making Vlad jerk and spit out his whiskey as he was finishing off the glass and was about to get ready for bed. Vlad follows them as they fly across the room while laughing at him, with Tucker taking a photo, before disappearing through another portal. All in the span of a second or two.

  
The three fall from the portal formed on Danny’s ceiling and land on his bed. With multiple injuries reopening and jostling Danny’s rib enough to turn a crack back into yet another break. Danny wheezes, “my ribs can never catch a _break_”.

  
Tucker snorts, “the bed caught it for you”, before holding his PDA straight up for everyone to see the image.

  
“Oh Ancients green eyes do not _suit_ him!”.

  
“He looks like he’s got neon green nail polish! Very goth. Way too much with that suit of his though”.

  
“See it works on Danny dude cause he looks like a damn mess, so it’s a fucking accent piece. Vampy just looks like a try-hard!”.

  
“Excuse you?!? I’m a natural disaster sight! ‘Mess’ is, clearly, far too modest”.

  
Sam pokes his cheek, “well you know what’s not modest? Besides calling you a colossal idiot? Your green glow looks like a sick rave effect. Vlad just looks ill”.  
Danny snorts, “sick and ill are both mine. Vladdie can have afflicted, since that’s not inadvertently a compliment”, snapping his fingers, “and! He was and is literally afflicted by his ghostliness, ectoacne and all that. Being a halfa is literally an affliction for him”.

  
Tucker smirks, “and so what is it for you then?”.

  
“Unlike the fruitloop, I didn’t get my shit slowly after a bout of extreme illness. I just straight half died. I ain’t afflicted by shit, I’m modified”.

  
“Now who’s being modest by saying ‘modified’ instead of ‘enhanced’?”.

  
“Oh don’t you know Sam? Danny only flaunts his bad traits”.

  
Danny, speaking with mock offence, “what do you mean being a walking disaster zone isn’t a positive trait?”.

  
Tucker sprigs up off the bed and takes a couple of steps before stopping and looking down at the floor, looking back to Danny and bouncing slightly on his toes, “dude, your floor is squishy. Being a flaming trash fire is one thing, accidentally becoming the biohazard apocalypse is another”.

  
Danny sits up and screws up his face, pokes the floor with his foot and shrugs, “my floors saturated, blood ‘n ‘plasm probably”, snickering and lifting up his glowing arm, “just like how I’m ectoplasm saturated”.

  
Sam laughs, grabs Tucker’s phone and zooms in on Vlad’s mouth. Snickering, “hey halfwit?”.

  
Danny leans his head over hers, “what?”.

  
Sam shoves a finger in Danny’s mouth and pushes it open, showing off Danny’s green glowing teeth, “you look like you drank glow-in-the-dark paint”, flipping around Tucker’s phone so Danny the close up of Vlad’s teeth, “he looks like he’s wearing a tacky novelty mouthguard”.

  
Danny raises an eyebrow and lets his fangs pop out, making a show of sounding overactingly threatening, “what about now?”. Only maintaining the scary facial expression for a few seconds before pitching off the bed onto the floor while laughing.

  
Sam shakes her head and kicks his face. Tucker shrugging and joining in, kicking Danny in the stomach. Who just wheezes in laughter.  
As Danny calms down and just wheezes on the floor, limbs spread out, Tucker pokes Danny cheek with his shoe, “now you look like you cannibalised a ghost and liked it”.

  
Danny smirks up at him, “maybe I would”.

  
Sam kicks him in the side of the head, “don’t eat Boxy”.

  
“Naw, Skulkie is More bite-sized”.

  
Tucker rolls his eyes and joins Danny on the carpet, “but he’s canned. Canned food is so salty”.

  
Sam grunts as she wiggles herself off the bed and onto the floor, laying across the boys, “and you’re salty enough”.

  
Danny licks over one of his wounds, “naw, I’m pucker power”, screwing up his face like he bit a lemon, “and with an extra helping of sour powder apparently”.

  
Tucker snorts, “I’d ask for free samples but I like my tongue intact”.

  
“Oh come on Tuck, live life! Like me!”.

  
Tucker shakes his head, “is it sad that we all only started really living our lives once you lost half of yours?”.

  
Danny shrugs exaggeratedly, “well you two are the only ones living it to the _fullest_”.

  
Tucker pushes his face, “but you get to live and unlive. Two for one is a much better deal”.

  
Danny laughs, “livin’ it and deadin’ it!”.

  
Sam smiles at the ceiling, “death gave us the guts and drive to live”.

  
“Well maybe it could do me a solid and stop tearing out my guts”.

  
“You say that like deaths never done anything for you”.

  
“It hasn’t! That little bastard keeps running away from me. Never granting me that sweet sweet eternal sleep”.

  
Both Sam and Tucker sit up then and look over his green glowing form, raising their eyebrows at him. Only for him to give a devilish toothy grin as e can feel the ectoplasm in him sloshing and digging itself deeper inside himself, his body returning to normal as he cackles. Point at himself, “the bitch ran away”.

  
Both of them grab a pillow and hit him in the face.  
**End. **


End file.
